


A Stolen Moment

by Dirtcore Dreams (NakedEye)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Forbidden Love, Frottage, Grinding, Groping, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Incest, Kinktober 2020, Listen I don't know where I got it but I like the image okay, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple teats, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Pseudo-Incest, Stiles has rows of them like a dog, Stiles is Derek's omega dad and Derek likes nursing a little too much, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26887984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedEye/pseuds/Dirtcore%20Dreams
Summary: Derek's had a rough week and without his alpha father around to discourage it, Stiles has been babying him. It goes a little further than anticipated when Derek wants to nurse again and Stiles can't tell him no.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 384





	A Stolen Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an ongoing AU I've been writing bits and pieces of forever. It has weirdly deep lore in my brain and I swear one day I'll collect it all and do something with it. Until then, just enjoy these snippets and hunt for them like easter eggs. :P 
> 
> Also yes I did smash three Kinktober days into one, you can't stop me. I did 3, 4, and 5 as orgasm denial, incest, and lactation respectively.

“Calm down, pup. Take it slow.” Stiles chuckled softly, petting through his son’s hair as the boy petulantly growled at him, still shoved his shirt up into his armpits roughly. Poor thing was having a rough week. His father was out of town for a game really important to him, had gotten back bad marks on his test, was fighting with a friend.

Stiles couldn’t help that his instinct was to baby Derek. Instead of angrily brushing it off like most teens his age, Derek simpered for it. He got nothing but tough love from his alpha and so Stiles didn’t mind playing a little into gender stereotypes to soothe the abrasive edges. Derek preened whenever Stiles called him, “my little man”, was content to let Stiles fuss with his hair and clothes, liked to cuddle on the couch late at night and be tucked in.

What they were doing now might have been considered a reach too far for most people, but Stiles only cared about making those in his life happy, and he’d do anything to accomplish it. So when he knocked on Derek’s door this evening to find his boy red faced and snuffling, the words came easy to his lips. “How about you come nurse on me, huh? That always made you feel better when you were fussy.”

Derek had been a sensitive child from the start. He was quiet and intense, took in everything deeply. And even when he wasn’t hungry or teething or sick, he found comfort being cupped against Stiles’ chest. He’d suckle idly, often letting the milk dribble from his mouth, gaze moony and slack, upturned at his dad. He’d continued nursing much later than other kids, and it was Gael that made him stop.

Stiles would have happily held him to teat his whole life, and so he didn’t hesitate when there was no one in the house to tell him otherwise. Derek’s eyes got all big and he’d wriggled in place, and for a moment Stiles feared he’d read the whole situation wrong, but then his boy nodded fervently and practically tackled him to the bed.

His room was permanently messy, his sheets stank of sweaty teenager. He had food scraps and video games and some suspiciously crusty socks strewn everywhere. Stiles couldn’t believe he’d been in a similar state when he’d met Derek’s dad. It was his turn to make the Costco run for the frat and Gael had been standing in the freezer section, dead eyed as he stared between a wailing Derek and a list he was clutching to for dear life.

Local sports team polo. Rubber sandals with socks. His belly was getting a little big, but his face was still boyishly handsome. Stiles had known he was in trouble right then and there, and even though he saw a wedding ring, he couldn’t help himself. Gael looked at him like he was an angel when he got the boy to stop crying, located what he needed, and flashed some tit from his scandalously cut tank.

It was a decade later, but he still felt like that same slutty, scrappy kid. He just had a curmudgeonly husband now, and a turbulent teen to take care of. Speaking of, Derek grabbed him by the hips, grunting as he used all his strength to shuffle Stiles further up the bed, nearly slamming him into the headboard. His grip was rough and possessive, and he’d done it to have enough room to settle between Stiles’ thighs.

Content with their positioning, some of his frustrations melted, and the snorting huffs of his breathing started to lessen. Stiles tutted at him, and with all the grace of a boy only apologizing because he got caught, Derek looked up at him with doe eyes and ran his nose over Stiles’ skin in soft, reticent circles. He seemed almost to be teasing himself with his movements, savoring his chance to be so doted on, spoiled rotten.

He breathed, warm and wet over every one of Stiles’ teats, climbing up and then back down the rows of them to end at his stomach again. He nuzzled into the dark, dense thatch of hair there, audibly inhaled his dad’s scent. And then, with a wet, broad tongue, he started to lap. Stiles chewed at his bottom lip to keep from making noises as Derek dragged over his plump, pink nipples, working the muscle of his tongue to caress the shape of them.

He felt Derek’s hands slide down to grip him by the bottom of his thighs and gasped when they gripped and shoved at him, pushing his knees up. “D-Derek! Stop playing with your food.” Stiles did his best to sound stern, but he felt Derek’s shit eating smirk against his skin. He knew Stiles had absolutely no willpower to stand up to him, and so freed one of his hands to come up and pinch and roll at one of the teats he wasn’t tasting-- making sure to stimulate it enough to get the milk flowing freely, trickling in sticky trails down Stiles’ skin.

Stiles just rolled his eyes, knowing this wouldn’t be the thing that broke the camel’s back on this already stained bedding. He was more focused on the fact that he’d intended to let Derek nurse before bed and so he’d come to the boy’s room in nothing but one of Gael’s oversized gym shirts. Nudity was no shocking state to find any of their little family members in at any given time, but them freely walking between the shower and their rooms without towels had never put Stiles quiet this close to how handsy his kid was.

Derek kept grabbing and adjusting him, stroking his hands over Stiles’ legs and stomach, even started picking him up with a grip that casually travelled past his back to hold him by his ass. As he drank more and more, Derek’s playfulness took on more and more of a deliberate hunger. He made wet, sticky sounds with is mouth in between pleased burrs of his chest. He constantly pushed Stiles’ legs up and apart. He groped and ground and started smearing his face against Stiles’ skin.

“Sweetheart, you’re working yourself up, slow down.” Derek grunted and whined in frustration and Stiles could see the angry tears had not yet abated. He’d intended to wipe it all away, but it seemed like he’d just given his son something else to work it out on. He was so overwhelmed by his own hormones, Stiles could see him struggling against the emotions roiling inside. He could also see the little alpha had tented his thin, cotton boxers, was in the middle of making an impressive wetspot in them. The bulge twitched, tremulous with every ounce of stimulation. He looked more than ready to cream himself.

Stiles hushed Derek’s mix of animal and infantile noises, stroking a hand down his back and going slack beneath him instead of continuing to wriggle like a caught prey. Instead he tried to read Derek’s movements and intentions, help the boy out. He wrapped his legs around his son’s waist, pulled his hair to guide him from teat to teat as they got oversensitive. He used his thumb to swipe the overflow of milk of Derek’s chin, and then back into his mouth, making eye contact as Derek fellated his digit to get it all.

His own breathing started to get ragged, but he just let the heat build in his body. He could feel his cunt wet and temperature rise with an interested fever. Derek’s pupils dilated with the scent and Stiles could feel him start rutting his slender dick against his dad’s hips. “Don’t chase it, Derek. You’ll push yourself into a rut. You don’t want to miss that game Friday, right? Wait till then, and you can enjoy yourself all weekend long after.”

Derek whined at him, brows knitted high and tight on his face. He sounded absolutely wounded at the prospect, but Stiles knew he was thinking entirely with the throbbing of his nuts right now. Derek would be glad he’d been made to wait later, his spot on first string was highly contested, a point of pride for Gael. Stiles gave him a sympathetic pout, and since they were this far already, reached between them to grip Derek tightly.

“You can hold it baby, I know you can. I know it’ll ache for a while, but it’ll feel _so_ good after. I’ll book a spa day or something so you have the house to yourself. You can get as loud and messy as you want.” Derek shook, but his dick didn’t quake in Stiles’ hands, threatening to bust. He shook his head, gyrating his hips and pulling Stiles even closer. His tongue was steeped white, milk on his breath, the tangy musk of teen sweat wet in his furry pits.

“Don’t--” It was the first time he’d spoken this entire encounter, and Stiles could see how much he struggled to continue getting it out. “Stay,” he pitifully pleaded before diving back into Stiles’ chest, burrowing to latch and sucking with a desperate, lustful urgency. His hips shook as he fought not to crash his crotch into Stiles’ rut his clothed dick against his dad’s cunt until he spunked them soaking wet.

“Okay, okay, pup. Anything you want. Anything.” Stiles clutched him close, almost painfully gripping his hair, rubbing their torsos together fitfully. He worked his hand into the boy’s shorts, clutching the naked, hairy hang of his balls to squeeze them, just enough to get his dick to slowly start softening. Derek mewled, squirming up until he was tucking his face into Stiles’ neck.

He held Stiles’ legs around him, closed his own thighs around his dad’s hand to hold it clutched on his privates. He leeched all the comfort Stiles would give to him, pushing his limits as he rubbed his thigh against Stiles’ lips. But it was idle, aimless. The naked intimacy was something they both drew from, settled into.

They let their arousal simmer, soak into each other. There was still the spark of illicitness electric in the air, but they kept it cupped in their hands, secret just between them. Derek’s cock drooled against Stiles’ wrist. His cunt throbbed against Derek’s thigh. Derek pulled away just long enough to lean up and give his dad a wet, needy kiss.

Stiles returned it, even though he knew he shouldn’t, sucking on his boy’s tongue and moaning softly for him. But it made Derek smile, thrilled and adoring at the return of affections. It was another ill advised affair, but Stiles had made it through to the other side of one already, and he didn’t regret a thing. He loved his life with Gael more than anything. Loved it enough to know if Derek asked, he’d gladly welcome his boy inside of him, as many times as he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, go follow me over on twitter @DirtcoreD . I interact with readers a lot there, take prompts through my curiouscat, and recently posted a choose your own adventure project I worked on about a half orc warlock that sells very horny items at his apothecary! 
> 
> Leave a comment if you like, and have a great day.


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